Varia Quality Bodyguards
by MrsRegulusBlack123
Summary: It wasn't that Hermione liked keeping secrets because, really, she didn't. It was just... how do you go about telling your friends that your godfather is the leader of an elite assassination squad? Takes place in the CoS.
1. Varia Quality Entrance

**A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to my newest crossover: Varia Quality Bodyguards! I'm really excited and I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it... Anyway, some basic information about this story is that it will follow the plot of CoS with some obvious changes because... well... the Varia gets involved. What else did you expect? Aditionally, this takes place two years after the ring battles, but the future arc didn't happen (I've got plans for that, but that's in the faraway future...), for now, read, enjoy, and please leave a review!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Katekyo Hitman Reborn, no matter how much I wish I did...**

* * *

Justin Finch-Fletchley had been attacked last night, and even though he had only been petrified and not killed that fact did little to ease anxious students' worries and fears. Wherever Harry went, whispers and wary gazes seemed to follow his every move. He could swear that whenever he opened his mouth to speak, somebody in the room flinched or stiffened as if expecting him to suddenly crack and attack them with Dark Magic. Even some of the teachers seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder, and it was not a particularly pleasant feeling.

Harry Potter, also known as the Boy Who Lived, sat in the Great Hall that evening, idly picking at his stew but not really being able to find it within himself to actually eat anything. Being suspected of possible murder (never mind the fact that nobody had died and that Harry _hadn't done anything_ ) sure did no favours to one's appetite.

Ron and Hermione sat by his side as usual, but even they seemed to be rather out of it at the moment. Not that Harry could blame them… it had been an eventful couple of days and between discovering their friend was a parselmouth (he could speak to snakes, _Salazar Slytherin had been able to speak to snakes too_ ) and the attack on Justin, he was honestly surprised they'd stuck with him at all.

( _"Of course we're still your friends, Harry." Hermione had reassured him just last night, a comforting hand placed on his shoulder._

" _Yeah, mate." Ron had chirped in, shrugging in that careless manner of his. "This doesn't change anything, does it? You're still Harry."_

 _But at the same time Harry hadn't been able to ignore the looks of collective distrust the Hufflepuffs sent him- huddling closer to each other each time he was in the vicinity- and he couldn't shake Hermione's earlier remark of: "He lived about a thousand years ago. For all we know, he could be."_

 _Because what if he_ was _? What if Slytherin really was his great great great great grandfather? What if the sorting hat had been right that time, what if there was something inheritably evil in him, what if-)_

"Harry. Harry, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?"

Hermione's look was one of worry but he wove it off, reassuring her that he had only been daydreaming and that, yes, everything was fine and what was that you asked again?

His friend didn't seem sold, but she accepted it with a mild nod all the same.

"I just asked if you had figured out question two of Professor Binn's worksheet. I'm pretty sure I got it right, but the terminology was just a tad tricky and-"

Ah, typical Hermione. Harry really wondered what they would do without her sometimes (mispronounce a spell and blow up half of Hogwarts probably). The Gryffindor shook his head, admitting that he had actually not even started yet.

"Blimey! That's not due until next week, Hermione." Ron pointed out. "Why bother with it now?"

At this point Hermione huffed something about the importance of getting things done in advance, but the argument was –perhaps not surprisingly – lost on Ronald Weasley. It wasn't very long before the two of them were engaged in a battle of leisure versus responsibility. Harry couldn't help but smile fondly at his friends. He appreciated the attempt at normality, no matter how glaringly obvious it was.

He was opening his mouth to say something when suddenly a large, angry-looking owl swooped down onto the Gryffindor table… right in the middle of dinner time. Harry and his fellow Gryffindors exchanged confused looks. They never got mail during dinner, except for cases that were really urgent.

The owl, an abnormally large brown screech owl, hooted loudly, obviously wanting to be relived from its duty. It looked rather windswept and ruffled, Harry nodded, as if it had had a long, tiring journey behind its back. Even so, it somehow managed to look menacing.

"I think it's for you, Harry." Neville whispered with a light push to his side, sounding rather anxious. Well… considering the bird was glaring them down with a ferocity contesting even Professor Snape's, Harry was starting to feel a bit intimidated himself. He also had to – however reluctantly – agree with Neville. The owl was glaring in his general direction, and whenever something weird happened at Hogwarts, Harry somehow seemed to be the centre of it.

Resigning himself to his fate, Harry reached out for the envelope. The moment his hand came anywhere close it to though, he was given a loud, disapproving screech and a bleeding finger.

 _The owl had bit him!_

"Ow! What was that for?"

The owl hooted impatiently, as if telling them all to hurry up.

When Hermione cautiously reached for that same envelope a couple of seconds later, the bird stayed completely still. How was that fair?

"Who is it from? Owls don't usually deliver letters after breakfast."

Only that Hermione seemed to be too preoccupied with staring at the pristine white envelope in her fingers to pay any attention to Ron's question. It was a paper envelope, Harry noticed, the kind that muggles customarily used to write letters. That in itself wasn't unusual considering Hermione was a muggleborn. What _was_ strange was the official-looking seal that had been placed upon it. It was some sort of a crest, Harry thought, and though he couldn't recognize the design, Hermione sure seemed to.

She seemed to hesitate for only a moment before breaking the seal and pulling out the neatly folded paper inside the envelope. It was adorned by that same official-looking crest. Harry craned his neck to take a look at the letter's contents over Hermione's shoulder only to realise the note wasn't even in English. He was about to ask about it when all hell broke loose.

It started with a BANG, followed by a loud cry of "VOOOOOOOOIII!" (whatever that may be), and the big double doors of the Great Hall being slammed open. Or blasted off their hinges… to be more accurate. Splinters went flying everywhere and several Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students had to duck in order to avoid flying pieces of door. There, amidst the smoke (when had _that_ gotten there?), a couple of very distinct silhouettes stood.

Harry had never up until this point in his life seen a more strange assortment of people.

"Trash. Where's the food?"

"Ushishi~ the Boss is hungry. Better make sure he gets fed."

"Did you _have_ to shoot the door down?! VOOOII! Does collateral damage mean anything to you, Xanxus?!"

"Shut up. I'm starving."

It was a strange sight indeed, but nothing could have prepared Harry for what happened next.

"Why are _you_ here?"

This was when all heads turned towards the Gryffindor table.

 _ **HERMIONE?!**_


	2. And that was how it all began

**A/N: Hello, MrsRegulusBlack here! First of all I want to thank everybody who took the time to leave a review, favourite and/or follow the first chapter of this story! I hope you all enjoy chapter two! Also, for those wondering: yes, Levi will be in this story, he'll just make his debut later on (I've got plans for him mwahahah) so you'll just have to do with the rest of the Varia for now~**

 **Anyway, so here's a question: What do you think Xanxus should call Hermione? I'm open for suggestions, if you have any.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own KHR or Harry Potter.**

* * *

 _Your parents have informed us of the current situation. Expect us there by tomorrow evening._

 _\- Mammon_

* * *

The best way to start this out would probably be by saying that Hermione's parents weren't _actually_ dentists.

No, as official members of the CEDEF's International Affairs and Cooperation Department, Daniel and Jean Granger actually lead a much more thrilling life than that. They weren't assassins, Mafiosi or even official Vongola members, but that didn't mean they didn't get to see and deal with their own fair share of _interesting_ underground happenings during a run-of-the-mill business day.

Daniel, in particular, was rather fond of telling people about that one time when Moretti the Murdered had gotten himself into a _spot of bother_ of sorts by falling asleep on public transport while on his city trip to London. Both the Famiglia and Daniel's squad had spent three days looking for him, and the owner of the morgue had nearly had a heart attack when the man he'd been about to cut open suddenly opened his eyes and stared at him in confusion.

Despite their claimed independence from the main Vongola HQ, it was their job as one of the IACD's many branches to organize and take care of any trouble and business that arose with Vongola-related complications in the United Kingdom. This usually involved covering up after any disasters and messes left behind by Mafiosi under Vongola or its allies' jurisdiction so that the Omertà could be upheld, and no civilians would get needlessly involved. After all, nobody wanted the Vindice showing up on their doorsteps.

Such being the nature of their work, it wasn't unusual for the IACD to come into contact with some of the more… _interesting_ assets of the Vongola. The Varia and its upper echelons were – perhaps unsurprisingly – some of the more familiar faces around Daniel and Jean's branch. So familiar, in fact, that many of them were on first name basis with one another already.

Daniel's relationship with Xanxus went further back than that though. The two of them had met back in their childhoods (teenage years, for Daniel), when Frederico, Enrico and Massimo were still alive and the Varia was still under the rule of Tyr. The ordeal had involved a lot of stubborn head-butting, one-upping the other and trying to gain the upper hand by any means necessary. Daniel's finger still bore the battle scars of where a ten-year-old Xanxus had bitten him the first time they met.

There was a certain camaraderie, or at least a level of mutual understanding, to be developed through constant roughhousing and fighting games, and while Daniel had always gotten along rather splendidly with Nono's three eldest, his friendship (if one could even call it that) with Xanxus had always been a bit more on the rocky edge. But then again, what wasn't when it came to the Varia boss?

When Hermione Jean Granger was born on a rainy September day, she was her parents' pride and joy. Nobody but Xanxus himself had been particularly surprised by the Grangers' choice of godparents.

(Squalo had learnt the hard way not to mock Xanxus about the way the older teen cradled Hermione while doing his paperwork, because that usually got him hit by random glasses of whatever alcoholic beverage his boss was currently having.)

So, really, Hermione had known of the mafia, its inner workings, the Vongola and Varia long before she ever got her Hogwarts letter. She had also known that her godfather and his subordinates showing up _anywhere_ uninvited was usually bad for the general well-being of others and/or the environment itself.

"Why are _you_ here?" The words were out of her mouth before Hermione could think better of it and it was no real surprise when everybody in the Great Hall suddenly turned to stare at her. Had the tables been turned, she was sure she'd have been staring as well.

She was still holding Mammon's letter in her hands, caught in a limbo that was somewhere between confused and outright panicked. They couldn't _really_ be here, right? They were supposed to be in Italy! (Then again, it _was_ the Varia.) But _Hogwarts, A History_ clearly stated that the castle was supposed to be impossible to track down for muggles! (Then again, Hermione considered, _this was the Varia._ ).

Really, any excuse Hermione might've come up with could easily be countered by: then again, this was the Varia. The word "impossible" simply didn't exist in their dictionaries.

"Hermione-chaaan~ Hello, dear!" It was with a rather familiar squeal of delight that Lussuria (or mama Luss, as the man fancied calling himself) launched himself at Hermione- the metaphorical hearts and colourful aura practically _pouring_ off him.

Lussuria might have been the Varia member with the least threatening appearance, but Neville still squeaked rather fearfully and scooted a few seats over when the man came to a stop right behind him.

"Oh, look at you! You've grown so much- let mama Luss hug you!"

Hermione didn't resist – experience had taught her that there was no point in fighting a Muay Thai expert at least twice her size - and let herself be enveloped in a great, big hug. Gingerly, she hugged Lussuria back. By the time the man pulled away, the rest of the Varia had gathered around them as well. Xanxus had manhandled some poor kid's food out of his grasp, taken a seat, and was now eating it himself.

"Hello, Hermione."

"Sup."

"Long time no see, brat."

"I trust you've been reading the books on financial studies I've been sending you?"

Hermione just gave them all a flat stare. _"Why are you here?"._

"Ushishi~ what's up with that look?" Belphegor grinned, a large grin stretching out on his lips. "The Prince would almost say you're not happy to see him, _sorellina_."

With blonde bangs covering his eyes, an easy grin on his lips and a crown perched on top of his head, the Varia's resident prince hadn't changed much since Hermione had first met him when he was eleven. He still referred to himself in third person, and the fact that he excused any of his mistakes and misgivings by saying he was a Prince probably hadn't changed either.

He walked and held himself with a sort grace that wasn't entirely usual for boys his age, and Hermione noticed it had many of the older female students, of all four houses, leaning over to whisper to their friends.

Prince Belphegor was entirely unaware of this… or rather, entirely aware of it and too vain to care about things he took for granted or considered his birthright.

"Well, I am – of course – but… that doesn't answer my question."

(Somewhere down the Hall, somebody whispered rather loudly " _Who is he_ _and why is he talking to Hermione Granger?")_

Xanxus grunted.

"Didn't that trash send you a note?" He turned to glare at Mammon, who insisted she had sent the letter and pointed out Hermione was even holding it right now.

"It's two sentences long!" The Gryffindor protested, waving the offending sheet of paper in front of her extended family. " _Your parents have informed us of the current situation. Expect us there by tomorrow evening._ That doesn't explain anything!"

"Time is money, Hermione. I included the essential information."

"It just arrived! And how is that essential information?!"

"We gave you a warning, didn't we?" Xanxus spoke, a challenging edge to his tone of voice even Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to try and contest… at least not before he had had a good meal and at least three glasses of wine… maybe even a chance to shoot somebody as well... "Which is more than we can say about you. The hell happened to keeping us up to date?"

Oh. _That._

"…"

Bel grinned manically, digging something out of his coat pocket. It was a piece of parchment and on it Hermione could see what she recognised to be her own neat handwriting… Xanxus, Squalo, Mammon and Lussiria were all piercing her with deeply disapproving looks. The Prince cleared his throat and started reading through the letter in perfect Italian:

" _Dear everyone… something about Harry, then a thing about transfiguration… potions… not important, not important… ah, where is it?... Oh-_ here _. Ahem. Everything's alright and quiet at Hogwarts. The most interesting thing there's been to report is Sir Nicholas' death day party, and as you know, that wasn't much fun…_ _ **nothing much since then**_ _. Love, Hermione."_

Five gazes stared her down. Hermione attempted an innocent smile.

"… I'm sorry?"

"VOOOOII. You damn better be! We had to hear about the attacks through your parents!"

"Ushishi~ you're in trouble now."

"Just so you know, I'm going to charge you for this."

"Mammon's being a greedy baby again." Bel grinned, pinching the infant's cheeks. Mammon, disgruntled, slapped the Prince's hands away. "But just for the record, the Prince won't be letting you off the hook that easily either."

Oh… that didn't sound good… that didn't sound good _at_ _all._

By that point, the Varia had all seated themselves around the Gryffindor table, making themselves at home and grabbing some food from the clearly terrified students sitting around them. Gryffindor bravery or not, most of them didn't seem too keen on fighting back. Which, given the fact that each and every one of the newcomers were trained mafia assassins… was probably a good idea. Not that they knew that. Thank god.

It was then that Hermione noticed something was missing. Or rather… _someone_ was missing. She opened her mouth to ask about it when Squalo suddenly seemed to come to the same realization. Turning his head around, the silver-haired swordsman groaned.

"Where the fuck is Levi?"

"Huh…" Bel muttered, taking a look around the Great Hall before offering a disinterested shrug, "looks like the peasant's not here…"

"Beats me."

"The idiot probably got lost. You know he's directionally challenged."

"Oh my~ shouldn't we go look for him?"

"Like hell, it's his own fault he got lost."

"Pshh, I still don't get how that piece of shit made Varia Quality. Pathetic."

Mutually concluding that none of them gave a rat's ass about the matter, the assassins turned back to their dinner. Only that they never actually got to eat anything, because just a second later Professor Dumbledore was standing behind them and clearing his throat.

" _What?"_ Xanxus snapped. The headmaster seemed to be unfazed by the man's blatant rudeness (though several professors looked disapproving in his stead) and simply smiled.

"I'd like to have a word with you, Mr. …?"

"Trash. You handle this."

"VOOOOOIII!" Squalo, who had been in the middle of inspecting the chicken wings on his plate, muttered something about bastards and lazy bosses but turned his gaze towards the old wizard all the same. "It's Squalo, old man. Superbia Squalo. What d'you want?"

"Mr. Squalo… My name is Albus Dumbledore, I'm the headmaster of this school."

"Yeah, whatever. Nice to freaking meet you."

 _This couldn't end well!_

"Professor-!" Hermione exclaimed at the same time as Mammon calmly said, "Albus."

Hermione blinked, turning to face the arcobaleno as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She wasn't the only one either. Did Mammon… somehow know Professor Dumbledore?

"…. Viper?"

Apparently she did.

"I go by the name Mammon now. Please use that when referring to me from now on." The arcobaleno coolly stated. "Boss, do I have permission to handle this?"

The scarred man looked from the old headmaster to the baby with a look of consideration in his eyes. Finally, apparently deciding it didn't really matter to him who did the talking as long as the problem was resolved, he shrugged and nodded.

"Permission granted." He said and Mammon hopped off the bench she'd been standing on, turning to face Dumbledore.

"To my office then?" Dumbledore suggested, to which the baby nodded.

"Yes, that will do."

* * *

Hermione wasted no time interrogating the newcomers.

"Mammon knows Professor Dumbledore?!" She demanded. She was looking at the man seated next to her, the one with the scars and red eyes, and almost unconsciously, Harry's hand was moving closer to where he kept his wand.

What was that spell they'd learnt in that disastrous first edition of the duelling club again? Right, Expelliarmus _. Expelliarmus. Expelliarmus. Expelliarmus_. Even though she seemed to know them, Harry was ready to protect his friend if need be.

"Looks like it." The man replied with a shrug. "Whatever it was, it was before the trash joined the Varia."

"Ushishi~ Mammon's so _ooold._ "

Considering that Mammon was a baby, Harry didn't see how that could be. Or how she could even talk that well, for that matter.

"Would you be a dear and pass me the potatoes, please?"

The man that sat next to Harry spoke fluent English, they all did, but there was something about their accents that made Harry think they weren't native speakers. European, probably. Maybe… Italian? The prince's accent (Harry wondered if he really was one) was just a bit different from the rest of the others' though- maybe he was from somewhere in northern Europe? In that case, what were they doing in Scotland? At Hogwarts, no less? They were all too old to be students…

"Hello, dear?" A gloved hand was being waved in front of his face. "The potatoes, please? Could you pass them?"

"Oh, er – right, of course. I'm sorry." Harry quickly obliged, feeling a bit embarrassed for spacing off. "Here you go."

"Thank you, hon."

The man with the feather boa served himself a generous serving of mashed potatoes and placed the bowl back down. Across the table, the silver-haired swordsman (whom Harry had previously thought to be a woman, for a moment) seemed to be in some sort of an argument with his boss. Despite the fact they were speaking what Harry recognized to be Italian, Hermione seemed to be keeping up quite easily, occasionally adding in a word or two.

 _Since when did Hermione know Italian?_

"You must be Harry, right? Harry Potter?"

Harry's hand automatically moved up to his hair, trying to flatten it out somewhat so that his scar wouldn't be visible. He hated that thing. The man wasn't looking at his scar though, he was just taking in his features.

"Round glasses, green eyes, that _hair_ … you look just like Hermione described you!"

"Err… thank you?"

"And _you_! You must be Ron Weasley…" Ron awkwardly nodded, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He had obviously not expected to be addressed. "Nice to meet you, kids, now I know you've probably never heard of me- but believe me- _we_ 've heard all about _you_. My name is Lussuria, by the way."

"Uhh… pleasure."

"How come you know us? If… it's okay to ask?"

"Why, Hermione told us all about you! The way I understand it, you're very dear to her. You'll take good care of her, won't you?" There was a sweet, sugary smile on the man's lips, but the tone of voice he'd spoken in carried something decidedly sinister. Harry felt like he was being threatened.

Hastily, both boys nodded.

"Y-yeah."

"Of course!"

"Wonderful! Then we'll get along just fine~" There were goosebumps all over Harry's skin. This man, The Boy Who Lived decided, was scary.

"So, um, Mr. Lussuria- how do you know Hermione? Are you… family?"

"Just Lussuria is fine, dear. Or Luss-nee, if you want to. To answer your question though, in a way, I suppose you could say that. See that tall handsome man with the scars over there (not exactly the description Harry would've gone for, admittedly, but he did know who was meant so he nodded)? That's Hermione's godfather."

Godfather?

God father.

 _Godfather?!_

"Since when?!" Ron squeaked.

"Since she was born, silly."

"I didn't know Hermione had Italian roots…" Lavender Brown murmured thoughtfully. Harry had to agree with her. All this time they had known her, Hermione had never even mentioned Italy, let alone speaking the language or having a godfather there… he had thought he knew his friends quite well, but did he?

"She doesn't. It's all a bit complicated so you'll excuse me if I don't go into any details. Now, could someone pass me any of that juice you've been drinking?" It was a clear enough dismissal, a sign that the conversation was over and that the man would like to eat in silence or at least talk about something different now, but Ronald Weasley was nothing if not insistent when his curiosity was peaked.

"And he's your boss? Why are you all here?"

Lussuria sighed, opened his mouth to say something, but was instead interrupted by the blonde prince sitting across from him.

"You ask too many questions for a peasant, Weasley. Do yourself a favour and keep your nose out of places it doesn't belong or you might just end up… in more than one piece, ushishi~"

" _Excuse me?_ " Ron looked part taken aback and part genuinely terrified. Harry looked back and forth between the prince and Lussuria, but he couldn't tell whether the boy had been serious or just joking. "That was- he's kidding, right?"

"Ah, this is Bel… you'd do well to follow his advice, actually. It's not really any of your business anyway. Though I suppose it's obvious enough that, yes, we do work for Xanxus."

Harry didn't miss the fact that Ron's question was tentatively left unanswered. Which was quite unsettling.

"It's _Prince Belphegor_ to you peasants." Bel haughtily announced instead. Weirdly, something about the blonde kind of reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy, only that where Malfoy just flounced about his name… Harry felt like Prince Belphegor actually had something to back it up. What exactly, the Gryffindor wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Are you… really a Prince?" Lavender questioned, to which the blonde arrogantly put his nose into the air.

"Of course. _Crown_ Prince, even." For a moment Lussuria looked worried that Bel might go on, but the blonde didn't elaborate on the subject.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness!" The girl beamed, to which the Prince muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'of course it is', "My name is Lavender Brown."

"Look at that. We've finally come across somebody who knows how to treat royalty…"

"Do you _believe_ that?" Ron hissed to Harry. "He didn't even say what country he comes from…! Just because my Uncle Billius says he's a goblin, doesn't mean he is."

Harry shrugged noncommittally.

"No, that was actually quite smart of your classmate." Lussuria commented, taking out a napkin and lightly dabbing his lips with it. "Being on Bel's good side is in most people's best interest."

"… It is…?"

The man chuckled.

"Oh, _absolutely_. Your friend, Hermione, discovered this early on. And there's no better way to get in Bel's good books than by feeding his ego." Harry filed this information away for later use as something told him he might need it. Ron was much less impressed but decided not to mention it either way.

Not really feeling all that hungry anymore, Harry pushed his plate away from himself and wondered when his life had taken this turn for the weird… er.

* * *

"I see…" Dumbledore thoughtfully hummed, absently stroking the length of his long, white beard. Mammon, once known as Viper to the masses, was sitting in the chair opposite of him, perched upon a stack of various-objects-transfigured-into-cushions.

The arcobaleno watched him with hidden eyes.

"Is it settled, then?" She questioned.

"I suppose so… As long as you and your, ah, teammates keep yourselves to the deal."

"Of course."

"And the Statue of Secrecy? We both know we won't be able to keep this quiet – I expect many students will be writing home as soon as they're dismissed. With everything already going on, I'd be surprised if the Ministry decided to overlook it…"

The Varia Mist Guardian offered a non-committal shrug. It wouldn't be the first time they had to deal with the authorities- the fact that they could wave around those overly-glorified sticks they called wands didn't change the fact they were first and foremost human and as such not immune to the temptation of bribery… or force, she supposed, if bad came to worse.

No, the arcobaleno wasn't worried.

"Leave that to me."

And that was how it all began.

* * *

 **Sorellina:** Italian for "little sister"


	3. Granger's Special Defence Squad

It was going to be a sombre day, Severus Snape decided, for whichever halfwitted dunce had decided to break into his office this time around.

It wasn't as uncommon as one would think, despite his repeated warnings and faux-threats, for one of his students to try and sneak into his personal study. It was where he kept his potion ingredients, and young witches and wizards always seemed to be up to something devious. This was something he had discovered early on in his teaching career, forced to ward his private quarters like it was a Gringotts vault... which was ridiculous, really. Didn't parents teach their kids anything these days? Petty theft was _not_ a way to gain anyone's favour.

More often than not he'd caught the Weasley twins at it, and what exactly they'd wanted with the lacewing flies hastily shoved into their socks, the Head of Slytherin House was not exactly sure he even _wanted_ to find out. He only knew one thing: being awoken to the blaring alarm that signalled _intrusion_ , meant bad news.

(Suffice to say, the idiot that had triggered it tonight – at _3AM,_ no less – would enjoy a month-long detention for his actions. In the best-case scenario.)

"Who's there? Show yourself!" His demand was met by silence, and Severus Snape's lip curled.

Illuminated by wandlight, he could now see the interior of his office. It was neat, if not somewhat bare, and a quick check revealed that none of his ingredients were missing. Had it been a false alarm? The Potions Master didn't believe that for even a second.

"I already know somebody was in here, so if you're still here I can assure you it would be in your best interest to _reveal yourself_."

The chance always existed, of course, that the intruder had already left. Snape was considering this when a loud, rumbling sound caught him by surprise. For future reference, Severus Snape did not jump. No. He did _not_. And even in the off chance that he did, nobody would've been there to witness it, so, really, it wouldn't matter.

(But he still didn't jump. Not even a little.)

Whipping himself around, wand raised, Snape surveyed his empty office. There it was again, that sound. It was loud and grating and... Merlin's beard, had Hagrid let loose one of his pets in here? It would certainly explain the awful... _snoring_?

Approaching his desk, Snape gripped his wand tighter, hoping to every entity above that whatever was hiding there wasn't one of Hagrid's pets. Those beasts were horrific enough from a distance, let alone close up.

 _Snoooooooorrreeeee._

He gripped the edge of the desk, took a deep breath, and peaked around the corner.

* * *

"Guys... has any of you seen Levi yet?" Lussuria questioned that night, bringing up a gloved hand in order to scratch his chin. "Last time _I_ saw him, we had just entered the castle... it's been a while since then, don't you think?"

His musings were met by silence.

Well... that would be a lie. His musings were met by a ton of noise, only that none of it was intended to answer his question. Instead, Xanxus and Squalo had gotten into some sort of an argument again, yelling loudly (well, mostly Squalo) and chucking random objects at eachother's heads (Xanxus). Meanwhile, Bel was perched on the couch, fast asleep as Mammon leafed through a book of some sort... how exactly the Prince could sleep through Squalo's yells and screams, well... that was a mystery yet unsolved.

Disappointed at his teammates' lack of concern (something could be wrong with Levi!), Lussuria let out a heavy sigh. Well... he supposed nothing could be done about it now – it was too late to send out a search party anyway. They'd just have to figure out what had happened tomorrow.

Who knew, maybe Levi had decided to be a dear and get ahead on investigations? They had an _heir_ to apprehend, after all, and wouldn't it be just like Levi to try and impress Xanxus-sama like that? Yes, that must be it.

Confident in his assumptions, Lussuria nodded to himself.

"Well, boys~ that's it for me, mama Luss is going to catch some sleep because he have a big day in front of us tomorrow! Ohoho~"

A stapler flew right past his ear – originally aimed at Squalo – and the Varia's tent was once again filled with yells and curses that would put any sailor to shame.

Just a night like any other.

Some ten minutes later, Lussuria was up in his bedroom, applying some hydrating cream to his face when the bell suddenly rang. Magical tents had bells! What a surprise!

(Really, they were much more convenient than regular tents. The one that Hermione had gifted them last Christmas in particular, the same one they were staying in right now, was a work of art!).

"Could one of you get that? I'm kind of busy right now!" He called down the stairs, pleased to hear Squalo groan and grumble, because that usually meant he took responsibility and did whatever was asked of him because nobody else would do it either.

Now, Squalo was never one for using what people call their "indoor voice", but even the Varia's Rain Guardian had a certain level of volume that could be considered his _normal voice_. The entire tent wobbling because of an enraged cry of **"VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIII!"** was not normal.

(Somewhere high up in the Gryffindor tower, Hermione Granger shoved her head under a pillow and groaned. )

" **WHAT THE FUCK?!"**

It wasn't exactly uncommon, but usually bad enough to guarantee trouble.

Well, it looked like Lussuria's express mediating skills were needed downstairs. Shoving his feet into his fluffy pink slippers, Lussuria exited his bedroom and followed Squalo's voice back to the source.

He'd never get any sleep at this rate.

"Is there a problem...?" He questioned as he entered the living room, just in time to bear witness to Xanxus chucking an entire sofa at Squalo's head. Unfortunately, it happened to be the same sofa Bel had been sleeping on, so the 20-year-old Prince crashed face-first into the ground as soon as it went airborne.

He shot up, alarmed, and threw a fan of knives at the nearest person.

"VOOOOOOOOOOOOOIII!"

"Be quiet, trash."

"THAT BASTARD JUST STABBED ME! IN THE FUCKING ASS!"

"I said shut up."

"Why did you wake up the Prince? He was having a good dream."

"Shut. Up."

"YOU LITTLE SCITZOPHRENIC MANIAC!"

Ah, well, Lussuria thought, nothing seemed to be out of order here... looking past Squalo and through the opening of the tent though, the Varia's Sun Guardian could make out an unfamiliar figure. He looked... quite shocked... in a poker-faced way.

"Oh my, hello – sorry about that. Is there anything I can help you with, hun? The others are going to be busy for a while."

Perhaps understandably, it took the pale, greasy-haired man a couple of moments before he could tear his eyes away from the spectacle unfolding behind Lussuria's back. When he finally did... he looked even paler than before.

He didn't seem to be capable of human speech at the moment, so he just stood aside and made a limp gesture with his wand. To the left. There was an orb of light sitting on the tip of his wand, shedding some light on their surroundings. There was a... lump... on the ground? Lussuria followed his gaze, mouth opening to form an "o" when he realized what he was seeing.

"Levi-chan! We were wondering where he had gone! Where did you find him?"

Levi was unconscious, for some reason, curled up in a fetal position.

"Your teammate was in my office." The man, obviously a professor, stiffly said. "He set off my alarms."

"Oh dear. We're terribly sorry for the inconvenience." Then, leaning in, he added, "Levi's kind of our problem child." The stranger did not look impressed. "So, um, what happened to him anyway... he's unconscious?"

"Stunned. It's just a spell – it will wear off in due time." Well, that didn't sound too bad at least. "Anyway, I need to get back to bed, I've got _classes_ tomorrow" An accusing look, "Please make sure your teammates stay out of my office in the future."

A swish of a cloak, and the man had turned around, leaving without as much as a goodbye. Well, at least they had their teammate back.

Lussuria sighed and moved over to drag Levi inside.

* * *

If Harry had thought last night's dinner had been strange, it was nothing in comparison to the morning that followed.

For about twenty blessed minutes after waking up, the Boy-Who-Lived had allowed himself to believe that the whole thing had been a dream- a concoction made up by too much food and a sleep-muddled brain. His day started out normally enough. He woke up, took a shower, got dressed and met his friends downstairs.

And then they left the Common Room.

 _("Finally. What the hell took you this long?!"_

" _It's bad manners to make a Prince wait, you know."_

" _Hermione-sama! I'm sorry I was absent last night!"_

" _A-ah... Levi, please get off the floor?")_

And walked to the Great Hall.

 _("Oooohhh~ look at that, guys, the stairs move!"_

" _Wanna throw Squalo down one of these, Mammon?"_

" _And have to deal with hospital bills? I think not."_

" _But that would make you second-in-command, wouldn't it? You'd get paid more and the Prince wouldn't have to train as much!"_

" _I CAN HEAR YOU, BEL!")_

And left again.

 _("WHAT THE FUCK?!"_

" _It's just a trick step, Squalo." Hermione patiently explained, "Don't worry, Neville forgets about it all the time. Oh, and watch out, that door's not really-"_

 _Thump._

" _-a door…"_

" _WHAT IS IT WITH THIS SCHOOL?!")_

And walked up to Charms Class.

 _("Let's roast that huge ass squid for dinner."_

" _You can't eat the Giant Squid, Xanxus!")_

… and the Varia followed them the whole time.

* * *

By the time History of Magic rolled around (aka Harry's last lesson for the day) the Boy-Who-Lived was convinced that this whole thing was one big, elaborate prank. At least he really, _really_ hoped so.

These people – the Varia – had hung around them all day, always following like a terrifying, looming shadow. All seven of them. There was no way on Earth they were related to Hermione... not sweet, bookish Hermione.

These people, though not wizards, seemed to be everything the Dursleys would have despised in a fellow human being. They were loud, outspoken, and outright _rude_. They swore like sailors and acted like they owned the place.

Like in Charms, when they had filed in along with all the second-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, and then proceeded to take a seat wherever they desired – placing their feet up on the desks and making class difficult to follow. See – even after everyone had settled down and found a way around the matter of their stolen seats – the Varia continued to disrespect the fact that this was a classroom... meant for learning (and wow, he sounded like Hermione there! … Scary) and kept arguing, shouting and otherwise making it difficult to concentrate.

Needless to say, Harry would be very happy when today was over so that he could go up to the Gryffindor tower and scream his frustrations out against a pillow. Somehow, he didn't think he'd be the only one.

The classroom was empty when Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors walked in. He slumped down in his usual seat, letting out a heavy sigh and resting his head against his arms in pure exhaustion. History of magic with Slytherins _and_ the Varia. Could this last hour get any worse?

Already, he could hear the latter approaching.

"Oh please! The Prince could _easily_ beat all of you peasants at any silly game you throw at him! He's a genius, remember?"

"A genius that talks in third person, yeah! Christ, you're a lunatic."

"You're just a jealous, Squalo, because you don't have my princely looks, and you're an old man~"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING OLD, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

"Now now, you two, no fighting okay?"

Harry groaned.

"- and _then_ my Father said I am the best seeker Slytherin has seen in years. I knew that of course, but hearing it again never hurts, you know."

 _Oh great, just perfect._ Harry wondered if now would be too late to attempt unlatching the window and jumping out of it.

"Oh, Draco! That's so cool!" Pansy Parkinson screeched as a gaggle of Slytherins entered the room. Malfoy and his entourage were at the head of it, as usual.

"My mother always says I got my talent from her side – she's rubbish at Quidditch, but her cousin used to be a seeker. Apparently, he was a pretty decent player."

Lowering his voice, Harry nudged Ron.

"That window. Free fall. Worth it or not?"

"Nah, mate. I don't think that'd be a good idea. There's rocks down there. Now, that other one over there- the Great Lake's on that side."

"That's nonsense, there's no way you'd fit through that window." Hermione interjected, huffing in irritation as she took out her book, quills and ink. She, too, seemed to be affected by today's events – worried, more than usual. In retrospect, Harry couldn't blame her.

He had just hoped that this class would go smoothly, but it was no real surprise to anybody when it didn't.

About five minutes in, Malfoy leaned back in his chair to whisper (rather loudly) to his friends.

"Did you see Granger's Special Defence Squad?" He snorted. "I bet she finally realised mudbloods like her aren't welcome here. A load of good a bunch of _muggles_ will do her!"

Crabbe and Goyle cackled along with him but Daphne Greengrass, who was seated a desk away, threw a reproachful look behind her back. She whispered something to Malfoy, only to be scoffed off.

"I'd like to see them try! Not that they'd as much as lay a hand on me, but even if they did, Father would-"

"Hey. You."

Suddenly, it seemed like nobody was even breathing. Except for Professor Binn's droning voice, the entire room was plunged into silence.

 _He_ had just spoken. 'He' being the scariest man of the lot – Xanxus, the man with the scarred face. Hermione's godfather. Reclined as he was in his chair, feet resting on the desk in front of him, Xanxus had spent every other class sleeping. Now, his blood-red eyes were open... and _glaring_ at Malfoy.

"Shut up. My god-daughter is trying to take notes."

Hermione turned a curious shade of red right then, keeping her head down as all attention was turned on her. Malfoy looked like he wanted to say something, but the intensity of Xanxus' red-eyed glare on himself seemed to suck away all of his courage.

Finally, he just managed a sneer before returning to his own textbook .

 _Not very brave now, are you?_ Harry thought triumphantly.

Well, it looked like at least _something_ good had come out of this whole thing...

* * *

 **A/N: Heeeey chapter three is out! Wooh! Well, what can I say, inspiration struck so I stayed up till 3:20AM to write this thing. Hope you guys enjoyed it~**

 **Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of it!**


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